


laetantem alleluia

by QueSeraAwesome



Series: Joyful Noise [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel Biology (Supernatural), Angel Family, Baby Angels (Supernatural), Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Fix-It, Fledglings, M/M, More like Castiel gets yeeted out of the Empty for belligerent ruckus-causing, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Series Finale, Spoilers, Spoilers for Episode: s15e18 Despair, The Empty (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:39:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueSeraAwesome/pseuds/QueSeraAwesome
Summary: The Empty had been asleep a long time, or it would have known and laid different conditions-- any different conditions-- for Castiel's return to its domain.A being such as an angel does not experience a "moment of true happiness," especially one born out of love, without consequences.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Joyful Noise [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024993
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	laetantem alleluia

**Author's Note:**

> What the fuck what the fuck. The world is fucking ending and I'm writing Supernatural fanfiction for the first time in...nvm. i haven't even watched any of it since circa Kevin Tran and Leviathans were around. So sorry if this is fucky. 3 chapters is the plan. 
> 
> A concept like this had been sitting in my drafts since 2014. Maybe I'll write that fic too someday, idk. This whole thing will probably make more sense if you read the preceding fic, your milage may vary.  
> Anyway, here's wonderwall.

Happiness isn't in the having-- it's in the **being**. 

Even as the Empty poured into reality before him, even as he shoved Dean aside and bid him goodbye-- for the last time-- Castiel couldn't find it in himself to be sorry. His Grace, his soul, his very _being_ was lit up like a solar flare, like the surface of a star. Every angel and demon on Earth must have been able to sense him at this moment, even as the slick, black tendrils of the Empty reached out and took him. Took Billie, too, and that was important. Castiel was not dying for nothing; Dean would live. 

_Dean._ Wonderful _,_ noble, immutable, caring, brave, loving Dean. Perfect even in all his flaws. Beautiful with all his scars. 

Castiel held on tight to that feeling, of his love for Dean, like an anchor, and the Empty dragged him down. 

He was vaguely aware that this was dying, that he should be succumbing to his final rest-- and yet he's still awake. There is no bluring, no fading as if he is going to sleep. The void envelops him, surrounds him, but does not muffle his conciousness. The light, the pressure, the _love_ in his Grace does not dissipate, did not abate. He is a lamp in the dark. 

Castiel loves Dean. Castiel _loves_ Dean, and now Dean knows. It's as if the words have broken a dam inside him and all he is is made of light, and joy. He allows himself a moment of regret, for telling him he loves him and leaving him, for being another person in Dean's life to do so. If there had been any other way...

The black nothingness of the Empty yawns around him, and still his Grace glows brighter, the harmonics and vibratos of his wings and wavelengths only strengthening, growing. Unbidden, a memory stirs. Sitting with Gabriel on a park bench, before the first apocalypse so many years ago. Gabriel had asked him--

_Where do you think little angels come from?_

**_…This is not unlike a talk Dean tried to have with me regarding protection before we visited the den of iniquity._ **

Castiel laughs at himself, in the memory. Only moments ago in the long timeline of his celestial existence, but still so young. So much pain and knowledge and experience given and gained between then and now, in so few short years. 

_Wow. No. I have got to hear that story later. But, no, stay focused. Where do angels come from, Castiel?_

  
He'd thought he'd known then. He'd thought he'd known a lot if things. He had been wrong often, had doubted himself and doubted Dean and doubted everything that had ever been his bedrock and come out the stronger for it. The _better_ for it. And as his Grace continues to swell, the love and gratitude he feels permeates through everything that he is. He feels almost feverish, like when he was human, if a fever were a sign of health and not illness. There could never be anything wrong in this. Why would he feel alarm, even as his Grace warps and vibrations skitter jarringly across his feathers, leaving him feeling like salt water taffy on a pulling machine. Like two yolks stuffed inside of one egg shell, crowded, squeezed, like a balloon filled with almost too much water.

Castiel is so full of love it feels as though he is coming apart. 

How funny, to think of Gabriel now. Gabriel, who had loved his family so dearly and had his heart broken so badly for it. Gabriel who had fled Heaven rather than watch it slip from brotherhood to beaurocracy. Gabriel, who had despaired more than all of them for lack of belief in a happy ending, and yet died twice to ensure one at the hands of a brother he loved. Gabriel would probably be proud of him. 

_Angels to put it quite simply, are created of love._

He thinks about the happy ending that Dean _deserves_. He knows no one is listening-- and if Chuck is he's not exactly inclined to grant it-- but Castiel thinks of Dean happy and _prays._

_Look, when an angel— or two angels, or a bunch of angels— love something very, very much, love something with their whole Grace--_

And with a nauseating lurch, the tether breaks, and Castiel is staring into the light of another Grace, separate from his own. Pulsing gently, its vibrations gaining strength, its wings unfurling, eyes opening and looking back into his. 

_\--sometimes all that love takes its own shape and creates a brand new baby angel._

What's the first thing a baby does, after it's born?

It cries.

The new angel opens its mouth and begins to sing. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Shadow: Ahh, finally. I got what I wanted and now I finally get my peace and quiet.  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Castiel with a newborn: About that....


End file.
